#mafia (game) —

[dagonich]

Yes, Derek. But you weren't part of the deal.

I wish to love myself as much as I love him XD

[klauswalz]

Mafia + Main Protagonist

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Imagine coming home from a long day of running errands to see ¡yandere! Sam Trapani beating one of your admirers to a bloody pulp on your front door step.

Warnings: Gore, violence, mentions of stalking, obsession, forced relationship

A/N: I drew this at the depths of night when I couldn’t sleep. I haven’t seen really any yandere mafia stuff soooo…… here you go!! Art + headcannon…you may now feast.

Requests: open 24/7

Bonus pt.2

(I mention that the admirer is young, I mean like Sam is 40 so the other guys is late 20’s to early thirties. Sam is just getting insecure about his age)

Sam had been stalking and slowly trying to court you for about a year and he’s getting closer to his goal of finally making you his; but this new guy that just moved in next door is just fucking it alll up.

It first started with the guy going over to your house to introduce himself and harmlessly wanting to be a friendly neighbor. Then quickly become bolder and bolder with his flirtations, much to Sam’s dismay! Could you believe that THE Sam Trapani is extremely jealous of this guy?? Probably 10 years younger and quite handsome, That boy is a serious threat.

You laugh louder at his jokes than you do at sam’s, your clothes are getting much more revealing and the way you prance your little ass over to him anytime he calls your name was seriously eating at him and he’s at his wits end of it. Sam knows he’s getting older but is his charm really that stale now?

Even when Sam is having a full conversation with with you this little shit will come around and inject himself into the whole interaction. Sam even started going grocery shopping on your schedule just to be able to have some alone time with you and yet again this man appears out of the wood works. Every. Single. Time.

(Okay that’s a little dramatic but the point still stands…Sammy cannot keep up with him. He’s finally met his match and he’s so whiny about ittt)

The other guys noticed this and found it extremely hilarious, Trapani wasn’t the hot shit of the town anymore and there was someone younger and more good looking ready to take his place and his girl. They poked fun and joked how Sam was now officially an old geezer and that a young damsel like yourself wouldn’t want anything to do with him. They fed into his insecurities and made everything just ten times worse. Of course they meant no harm, Sam usually wouldn’t be hung up on a girl for too long and plus he still had pretty much every other woman of Lost Haven in his hands so what what the big deal? Why were you so damn special anyways?

“Look Sam,” paulie breathed in between laughs. “Y/N is admittedly very gorgeous but just leave it alone at this point. She’s very obviously more into him than you. What about that broad down at the Corleone…what was her name??”

“Michelle..” Sam gritted in a low venomous tone

“Right, Michelle! Maaaaybeee…you can get her out of that hell hole and I’m sure once she cleans up nicely she’ll be…something of a wife” Paulie erupted into laughter once again after finishing that sentence, barely able to hold back the tears that accompanied it.

Sam already decided enough was enough and there was no point in trying to play this whole love game thing fairly. Going down to your house and giving it to you straight was the only way he could think of doing this. He wanted your love story to feel organic and for your admiration for him to slowly bloom but you’re obviously not getting it. You don’t understand that Sam is the only possible match for you.

So much time stalking, analyzing and carefully articulating every move he made with you isn’t about be washed down the drain just because some bright eyed sucker wants to fuck you. No…it’s okay though. You’re just slightly misguided by all the butterflies and fluff but soon he’ll lead you right back to where you need to be.

As his car approached your door, he noticed a fellow holding a huge bouquet of flowers and a wrapped gift in his hand ready to knock on your door. Obviously Sam’s time was running out far sooner than he had previously expected at that moment something inside of him snapped.

Without thinking any further he got out of his sleek black car and opened the trunk, out of it he grabbed a bat and started towards the young man.

”Oh hey Sam! I’ve been knocking on y/n’s door for quite some time now. Do you know where sh-“ before the young man could even finish his next sentence the bat connected with his head and continued to do so as Sam kept striking him over and over..

Nothing was said out of Sam’s mouth as he beat him to a pulp…actually nothing could be heard throughout the entire neighborhood outside of the thwacking of the bat and the cries that escaped the admirer’s lips, pleading for him to stop. Everyone in the neighborhood silently watch from a distance, they all knew of Sam’s affiliation and no one wanted to be next on Salierie’s list. Even the birds decided to stop chirping in fear they too would meet the same fate as the fellow

This continued on for another couple minutes before a blood curdling scream broke Sam’s attack.

“Sam?!? What the hell are you doing to him????”

Hearing your familiar voice, Sam swiftly stood up to face you, hurriedly trying to explain what happened.

“Look…y/n calm down, this is just a simple miss understanding…”

He flashed a brisk smile and steadily started walking towards you

“Just come with me and we can speak about this over dinner, huh? You’d like that?”

Shaking your head and carefully backing away from the deranged man, you cried out

“No…n-no…no Sam….” A breath passed “Y-you gangsters are all the same…you hurt people without cause, just look at what you did to him! He was a good man!”

Sam for a moment, stopped walking and looked back at the bloody scene he had just created before looking back at you.

“Oh sweetheart…”

He began walking towards you again, this time faster so he could catch your arm.

“…trust me when I say, this isn’t the worst i could’ve done to em’. ”

Pulling you in close to his chest, he moved slightly to the side of your face and lowered his lips to your ear before speaking again,

“I’ve got something to make it up to you, doll face.” Looking down at his bloody and bruised hands, he held a perfectly intact rose…

[itzchoi]

So I've recently been into seventeen and I'm watching their mafia games, so far I've realised a few things :

1. S. Coups will blame anyone and everyone and he doesn't trust anyone

2. DK always makes himself look suspicious for fun

3. Hoshi is always targeting Mingyu

4. Poor Seungkhwan always gets killed by the mafia

5. Joshua is always a suspect

6. Vernon and Woozi survives or dies on pure luck

7. Dino is bad at hidding the fact that he's mafia whenever he is

8. Wonwoo plays smart

9. Seventeen just takes Jun's words as solid proof even if he's one of the smartest players

10. Minghao can die on the hill on defending Jun but he's scary

11. If you don't take Jeonghan out, he's going to take you out

[mothbutcher]

buona sera senorita kiss me goodnight <3

im love u vito

[heavens-moonlight]

𝗕𝗢𝗥𝗗𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗦 | 𝟬𝟮 : 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗨𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗙𝗟𝗬 𝗘𝗙𝗙𝗘𝗖𝗧

𝟬𝟭 : 𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗔𝗗𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗘 | 𝟬𝟯 : 𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗘 𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗦

Author’s Note: Well, here we go...The game has finally started but who will survive? As always, let me know your thoughts and all comments are greatly appreciated! ♡

The dorms are much more spacious than anticipated as Yoon-Seo and Jung-Won beeline for the sole coffee table in the middle of the room, occupying either side. You instead, opt to unceremoniously plop yourself down onto one of the sizeable bunk beds, plugging your phone in to charge, having depleted the power source earlier on the bus ride over.

With a familiar chime, the battery icon flashes, but you do a double take as you realize the bar has gone back up to more than 50%. "That's strange..." you whisper more to yourself than anyone, but Yoon-Seo hears you.

"What is?"

You flip over onto your stomach and turn your phone screen toward her. "Look." You point to the upper right corner, forefinger tapping at the yellow bar, lightning symbol on display. "I'm sure it was at 26% earlier but all of a sudden it's paused at nearly double what it was previously."

"Maybe you mixed up the percentages?" Yoon-Seo suggests.

"I don't think so..." You scratch your head in confusion as Yoon-Seo shrugs, neither of you having a clue in the slightest.

"Electronics are good when they work," Jung-Won says, padding over to the chair by your head where Yoon-Seo left her backpack. You place the phone face-down on the nightstand and see her slip a small gift box inside the unzipped bag, making a shushing motion with her pointer finger against her lips. Smiling, you mimic the locking of a key and throw it away behind you, keeping Yoon-Seo's birthday surprise between the two of you. "Ugh, I need to take a coding lecture but my laptop's failing to connect to the internet."

Yoon-Seo scoots her back against the side railing of your bed and crosses her arms, tsking at Jung-Won. "You keep badgering me nonstop for reading, but who else except you would willingly study during a school trip?" Yoon-Seo shakes her head. "Stop acting like the top of the class, Madame Mensa."

Jung-Won doesn't look up from her laptop screen, monotonously correcting the nickname. "Mensa is the name of the organization. You're supposed to say Mensan for the people. How many times do I have to tell you?"

You laugh at the habitual repartee between them, but get cut off by a ding signaling an incoming notification. Peering over Yoon-Seo's shoulder, you eye as an app materializes on her home screen, one you don't recognize nor have you ever seen it in the default bundle all phones come with.

"Jung-Won, what's this? I said I don't need it."

"It's really not me. I haven't touched your phone at all."

Curious, you grab your own phone and glance down at it, the same little round-edged square making its appearance. "Yoon-Seo, I have it too. Neither of us downloaded it or scanned the QR code when we arrived."

[ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀғɪᴀ ɢᴀᴍᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇɢɪɴ sʜᴏʀᴛʟʏ. ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀssɪɢɴᴇᴅ ᴏᴄᴄᴜᴘᴀᴛɪᴏɴ. ]

"Mafia game?" As you touch the screen, an envelope unfurls following animation. "Wasn't this what they were playing earlier on the bus?"

"Yeah..." Yoon-Seo confirms distractedly, verifying her own occupation. "I guess I'm a civilian, not that I expected to be anything else. How about you guys?"

"I'm also a civilian."

[ ʜᴀɴ sᴇᴏʟ-ʜᴡᴀ ɴɪᴍ, ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴏʟᴇ ɪs ᴀ ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ. ]

"Me too," you fib, hoping that it wouldn't be questioned. You weren't a very good liar to begin with and hoped this would pass. Maybe there would be a reward for winning the game, but either way, at least you knew your closest friends were on the same side as you.

Still, for some odd reason, it didn't seem fit for you to reveal your real character. Being a doctor seemed too important of a role to just go around telling everyone willy-nilly. The three of you rarely kept secrets from one another, and so you trusted that a white lie for the game this one time could be forgiven.

Before any of you can discuss the odd happenings of the unexpected game further, paragraphs pop up in successive order, outlining the standard rules:

𝟣) ᴀʟʟ ᴘᴀʀᴛɪᴄɪᴘᴀɴᴛs ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ sᴇᴄʀᴇᴛʟʏ ᴀssɪɢɴᴇᴅ ᴀs ᴀ ᴄɪᴛɪᴢᴇɴ, ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ, ᴘᴏʟɪᴄᴇ ᴏғғɪᴄᴇʀ, ᴏʀ ᴀ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀғɪᴀ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ ᴄᴀɴ ᴘʀᴇᴠᴇɴᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇxᴇᴄᴜᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ᴀɴʏ ᴘᴀʀᴛɪᴄɪᴘᴀɴᴛ ᴛʜᴇʏ sᴇᴇ ғɪᴛ, ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏʟɪᴄᴇ ᴍᴀʏ ᴄᴏɴғɪʀᴍ ᴀ ᴘʟᴀʏᴇʀ's ɪᴅᴇɴᴛɪᴛʏ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴄʜᴏᴏsɪɴɢ.

𝟤) ғʀᴏᴍ ᴇɪɢʜᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴍɪᴅɴɪɢʜᴛ, ᴀʟʟ ᴘᴀʀᴛɪᴇs ᴡɪʟʟ ᴅɪsǫᴜᴀʟɪғʏ sᴜsᴘᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ᴍᴀғɪᴀ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀs ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴠᴏᴛɪɴɢ.

𝟥) ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʟᴏᴄᴋ sᴛʀɪᴋᴇs ᴛᴡᴇʟᴠᴇ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʟᴀʏᴇʀ ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀᴊᴏʀɪᴛʏ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴇxᴇᴄᴜᴛᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴏᴄᴄᴜᴘᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ʀᴇᴠᴇᴀʟᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴀʟʟ ʀᴇᴍᴀɪɴɪɴɢ ᴘᴀʀᴛɪᴄɪᴘᴀɴᴛs.

𝟦) ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ᴠᴏᴛɪɴɢ ᴄʟᴏsᴇs ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ᴘʟᴀʏᴇʀ ʜᴀs ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴇᴍɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴇxᴇᴄᴜᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ɢᴏ ᴛᴏ sʟᴇᴇᴘ ᴀsɪᴅᴇ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀғɪᴀ ᴛᴇᴀᴍ.

𝟧) ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ɪs ɪɴ sʟᴜᴍʙᴇʀ, ᴍᴀғɪᴀ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀs ᴍᴜsᴛ ᴇxᴇᴄᴜᴛᴇ sᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ᴅᴀᴡɴ.

𝟨) ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ɪɴ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴏsᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴄɪᴠɪʟɪᴀɴ, ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴏʟɪᴄᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ ᴛᴇᴀᴍ. ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛᴇᴀᴍ ᴄɪᴠɪʟɪᴀɴs ᴏʀ ᴛᴇᴀᴍ ᴍᴀғɪᴀ ᴏᴠᴇʀʀᴜɴs ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴏᴜᴘ, ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴀᴍᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴇɴᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴɴᴇʀ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇᴅ.

[ ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ғɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀғɪᴀs ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴇɢɪɴ ᴄᴀsᴛɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴠᴏᴛᴇs. ]

You're still trying to wrap your head around the summarized instructions, sensing that there was much more to the game than meets the eye. Why was there no outlining of the individual tasks required for those with specialized occupations? How many of you were assigned to each role? What happens after execution?

Jung-Won's voice interrupts your thoughts, the thread of worries pausing in its unending tangling inside your mind. "If you push a name, a vote gets cast apparently."

"You elected someone already...?" It was quite obvious how much Eun-Ha pushed for Yool determinedly in the group chat, and reluctantly, you and Yoon-Seo follow suit, knowing full-well Yool's obsession with the game and his caliber for winning streaks.

Pensively, you start scrolling through the partakers' list, seeing your classmates' yearbook photos, including your own. Being the overthinker that you are, your mind starts spinning with all of the possibilities on how this game could end, but you had no clue why it even began in the first place. The awareness of budding anxiousness courses through you as a slight breeze from the window sends goosebumps raising on your arms at the late revelation. "But guys...why does this app have our identifiers?"

Yoon-Seo turns to you, eyebrows knit together in agreement. "Right. We didn't even sign up earlier. Who granted them access to gather this protected information?"

Jung-Won bites at her nails, eyes shifting back and forth across her phone screen, the glare of its light reflecting off her glasses. "The internet isn't working either. How are we able to play the game anyway?"

Silence encases the vicinity around your trio, no one knowing what to say to the other, all questions remaining unvoiced and unanswered.

"Why don't we go back down to the lobby and see if there's anyone we can ask?" you propose, Jung-Won and Yoon-Seo readily assenting.

The reception desk as you head downstairs is as empty as it was the moment you came in, maybe even more so as reticence settles over the expansive building, the sky having gone ominously dark from a single look out the glass doors of the entrance.

"Our teacher hasn't come back yet? He left so long ago..." Yoon-Seo walks around the reception desk, circling for any clues. "Nothing could've happened, right?"

"What if he got into an accident?" Jung-Won states bluntly, drumming her fingers against the marble countertop.

"Yah, don't say it like that..." you warn. "Words can be dangerous. You don't know what it can subject someone to."

Before Jung-Won can list more outrageous possibilities, Jun-Hee sidles up on the opposite side of the counter where you're spinning back and forth in the chair slowly, lost in thought.

"Hey Jun-Hee, do you know when Seonsaengnim will be back?" Yoon-Seo directs at him while she flips through the binder of contacts placed beside you. "These numbers aren't what we need at all. They're just for the retreat center's use like maintenance and all that."

Jun-Hee shakes his head. "I can't reach him." He pulls out his phone, only to sigh and slip it back inside his pocket. "Are any of your guys' devices working?"

"We don't even have service." You look around once more, surveying areas within your eyesight in case any adults would spontaneously reappear. "Shouldn't there be at least one staff member or at the very least a security guard on patrol at night?"

"I guess they all went with our teacher." Jun-Hee walks up next to you and settles down on the counter to your left.

You raise an eyebrow. "Every single one of them? They didn't think to have anybody stay behind as a chaperone?"

"Well, when you put it that way..." Jun-Hee begins. "It does seem a little unnecessary for all of them to up and leave."

"Then, what do we do now? How long do we wait?" Jung-Won stares at the clock ticking away. "It's barely nine o'clock. Surely, it wouldn't take him twice as long to pick up the others and return here, right?"

"There must be a phone in the staff lounge," Yoon-Seo stops her rummaging around under the desk long enough to say. "Jung-Won, let's go and search there."

"You're leaving me here alone?"

"Not alone," Yoon-Seo waggles her eyebrows so only you can see. "With Jun-Hee, of course."

Jung-Won conceals her smile behind her hand not so discreetly and begins to drag Yoon-Seo away. As they pass, Yoon-Seo pats Jun-Hee on the shoulder and cautions him. "If she gets lost, you'll be in big trouble."

He turns to her. "You've known me since we were babies, who do you take me for?"

Yoon-Seo merely ignores him and follows Jung-Won upstairs happily, an extra spring in her step, making it known how proud she was of herself. Rolling your eyes unnoticeably at their less than subtle tactics, you could only hope they were actually going to find a phone and not saying that purely for reasons of ulterior motives.

The hush after is stifling without the buffer of Yoon-Seo and Jung-Won. Jun-Hee is staring straight at you, hands bracing the counter on either side of him waiting for you to say something, but you're staring down at the floor, purposefully refusing to make eye contact.

"Are you mad at me?"

That was the last thing you expected him to say. "Of course not." You look up at him briefly, but what a mistake that was. With you lowered in the chair and him sitting up on the raised desk, your eyes meet his lips first and your mind automatically reels back to the kiss on the bus. Darting your eyes back to your lap immediately after draws out a weary sigh from Jun-Hee.

"Even now you can't look straight at me. At least tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it." When you're thinking of what to reply with, Jun-Hee grabs the chair's armrests by your sides and pulls you in closer, leaning his head down so that his form towers over yours. With nowhere else to look now, you're forced to gaze upward and the expression on his face has your stomach tightening in knots, guilty. "Now you're finally looking at me." A beat passes before Jun-Hee's eyes become downturn. "I'm sorry."

Your gaze softens as you glance into his dark brown eyes, seeing your own image in his irises. "I'm the one that should be sorry." You place your hands that were settled in your lap onto his forearms, and he instantly gazes down at the contact before looking back to you, his attention unwavering. "Don't ever apologize to me when you didn't do anything wrong, Jun-Hee."

His eyes dart back and forth between your own, questioning. "Then why have you been avoiding me? Did something happen while I was sleeping earlier on the bus? If there is or I made you uncomfortable in any way—"

"No, no, it's nothing like that," you're quick to salvage the situation and dismiss the notion entirely, even though he couldn't have been more spot on. He had always been an observant person. This you knew too well.

I didn't want you to find out my feelings for you and lose you as a friend all in one.

Instead of the full truth, you tell him only half of it. "I didn't want you to find out how tired I felt and have you worrying over me. I know you're the class president with greater, more important responsibilities, but I also know, above anyone else, that I can't burden you with my troubles just because I'm your friend."

"Seol-Hwa, even then, you could've told me." His hands move to rest on your shoulders. "You'll always be my top priority." In a much quieter voice he says, "And I'll always worry about you."

"Jun-Hee..."

He looks you dead in the eyes, expression open and filled with warmth. "I don't like when you're sad. You look the prettiest when you smile." You don't even get a chance to get a word in before Jun-Hee plows on, turning his head away slightly. If you didn't know better, you'd think he was abashed to be saying the things he did. "In the gymnasium earlier, you were laughing so carefree with Yoon-Seo. It's been a while since I've seen you like that with me. I can only be happy if you're happy..." He's almost sulking, his countenance like that of a kicked puppy.

You laugh genuinely, your head hitting the back of the chair. "Kim Jun-Hee, are you jealous of my friendship with Yoon-Seo right now?"

"I got you to smile this time!" He grins back brightly at you and the two of you sit there looking at one another, neither grin dropping. The soft exhalation of his laughter trickles into your ears once again, Jun-Hee being so content with having you in his presence, and you bask in how happy the sound makes you. Any previously existing tension disintegrates in an instant, and oddly enough, you feel closer to him than ever.

The moment gets cut short when a text from the app's group chat comes in, a start contrast to the discussion earlier, votes having already pooled in for Heo Yool.

[ 💬 sᴏ-ᴍɪ: ʟᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴏɴ-sᴇᴏ, ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏᴏʟ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɴɴᴇx. ɪᴛ's ᴜʀɢᴇɴᴛ. ]

The oddly specific and demanding tone of the message irked you to no end. "What is this about?" Never once have you seen So-Mi try to interact with your friend group voluntarily.

Jun-Hee waves his hand dismissively. "For the event tomorrow, we're interviewing everyone about the trip and the general experience."

"Even in this situation?" you ask incredulously.

Jun-Hee chuckles. "You know how So-Mi is." His eyebrows lift pointedly.

You pat his thigh accidentally, having missed his knee entirely and feel the muscles tense beneath your hand although he doesn't move away. "Don't you find it odd?"

Jun-Hee tilts his head, equal parts confused and curious. "About...?"

"Everything." You gesture around. "The lost signal, the disappearance of supposedly responsible adults, this automatically installed app that has our personal data, and the mafia game we're all in even though we didn't choose to play?"

Jun-Hee mulls it over for a second. "I honestly have no idea what's going on." He ruffles your head affectionately. "But don't worry so much. I'm certain once morning comes, everything will be alright."

"I sure hope so."

Your conversation quietens as heavy footsteps pad across the glossed floors and you squint to see the figure in the distance.

"Joo-Won?"

Jun-Hee turns around at your discovery and notices your classmate's bloody nose, a spark of recognition flashing across his eyes. "Where are you going?"

Joo-Won looks from Jun-Hee to you, and back again nervously, seemingly deciding whether he should say something or not. "W-Well, the guys wanted to see me for a second. So..." he stammers out.

You frown, knowing of the relentless bullying Kyung-Jun's group puts him and Da-Bum through.

"Wait there," Jun-Hee directs, hopping off the desk, and Ju-Won picks at his fingers, clearly on edge at the impending encounter.

"Be careful," you add in as an afterthought before he can leave.

"I will, now that I have you fretting over me." Jun-Hee smirks cheekily.

"I'm being serious, Jun-Hee." You fix him with a stern but caring gaze. "Try to be less confrontational. It won't be good for you or Ju-Won to get on Kyung-Jun's bad side."

He nods, understanding. "I'll try my best." Waving, he begins to lead Ju-Won away, the latter shuffling after with his head down pitifully. "I'll see you soon. Don't go anywhere where I can't reach you!" Your eyes trail after their distancing forms, agitatedly until you can no longer hear their footsteps echoing down the hall.

Not even a full minute has gone by before Yoon-Seo and Jong-Won show up again, trudging down the same stairs they climbed up less than an hour ago. Judging by their walk and the look on their faces, their search must've proved unsuccessful.

"Nothing came up?" You fall into place with the two as your all make way toward the pool.

"The phone lines..." Yoon-Seo begins, dishearteningly. "None of them worked. Every single ring had us fooled."

You stare at her in shock. "But—"

"We tried contacting 119 and even picking up incoming calls immediately, but no one answered." Jung-Won hangs her head despondently.

"This trip is starting to take a very wrong turn..." you hypothesize out loud. You don't even get to explain to Yoon-Seo and Jung-Won your reasoning before Na-Hee comes by, skipping over joyfully, oblivious on how to read the room.

"You all came." Na-Hee grabs your hand and Jung-Won's in each of her own, motioning with her head toward Yoon-Seo to enter. "Yoon-Seo, you should head inside." Without questioning it, Yoon-Seo does as she's told.

You slip your hand out of Na-Hee's nippily, and her smile wanes faintly, somewhat hurt. Hyun-Ho had confided in you that he liked her, but given what you knew about Na-Hee, you weren't fond of the idea. Not wanting to disappoint him, you don't say anything when he brings her up, but the things she has been a bystander for following in So-Mi's schemes never sat right with you. Silently, you hope that one day Na-Hee would come to her senses for Hyun-Ho's sake, but you've been proven wrong time and time again.

"Are these solo interviews or what?" you inquire curtly.

"They want to record Yoon-Seo first. You can come in a bit later."

"Can't be that special of footage." Jung-Won pulls you by the elbow, sidestepping Na-Hee and pushing the doors open of her own volition.

You're met with So-Mi, Ji-Soo, Yu-Jun, and Woo-Ram, all crowding around Yoon-Seo and singing her happy birthday with a makeshift cake comprised of stacked choco-pies.

So-Mi steps forward, offering Yoon-Seo the sweets and urging her to blow out a single measly candle that wasn't even lit beforehand.

"Since when have you done stuff like this? You barely give her the time of day." Jung-Won eyes So-Mi suspiciously, voicing your same exact thoughts.

Yoon-Seo is way too nice, proceeding to thank So-Mi. You, on the other hand, didn't buy into the latter's nice girl act whatsoever, and clearly, neither did Jung-Won.

So-Mi shoots Yoon-Seo a saccharine smile. "Don't mention it. We should celebrate since we're friends." The word doesn't roll off her tongue easily, openly not a genuine desire. "We brought a present too." You narrow your eyes at the group as they're trying to hide their shrewd smiles, albeit unsuccessfully. "Let's start with a birthday beating and plunge!"

Instantaneously, you try to drag Yu-Jun, leaving Jung-Won to fend off Woo-Ram, away from Yoon-Seo with no luck. More force would just topple all three of them straight into the water. You didn't particularly care if the boys fell to the very bottom depths of the pool, but Yoon-Seo shouldn't get soaked, no less on the night of her birthday. She didn't deserve this horrible of a treatment for simply being too trusting, genuinely wanting to see good in everyone with no ounce of judgment or malice.

So-Mi guffaws hysterically in the background, bent over clutching her stomach like the sight is the funniest thing she's ever witnessed. "Put her down," she orders in between giggles, wiping away a tear from her eye. "She's about to cry." Standing akimbo, she bites back her sneer, turning to the rest. "We went too far, didn't we?"

"You think?!" Jung-Won rounds on her, eyes blazing with anger.

You haul Yoon-Seo back up to her feet as the boys scatter, high-fiving. As she stands up again after you've barely let go of her hands, So-Mi swiftly shoves her over backwards, sending her diving into the water with a loud splash, droplets flying every which way.

"Are you crazy? How could you do that?!" Jung-Won kneels next to you by the edge of the pool, watching as Yoon-Seo resurfaces.

"You ok?" You reach out a hand to her, close enough that she can grip your fingertips.

"Yeah, I will be."

You breathe a sigh of reprieve, but it's rather short-lived when Yoon-Seo starts kicking madly underwater, her arms and legs flailing before she sinks beneath, no longer visible.

"Yoon-Seo!" you shout, but hear no response.

"What a funny 'prank' to you guys, huh?" Jung-Won yells crossly at So-Mi's group, everyone standing shell-shocked. How they have the conscience to even feel the tiniest bit of remorse is beyond your understanding.

The group tries to urge Woo-Ram to go in, but in hindsight, being on the receiving end of the prank didn't seem so appealing anymore.

Livid, you turn around to heave So-Mi backwards and she goes tumbling to the ground, the silver platter she was holding in one hand clattering and smashing cake crumbs all over her. For whatever reason, Ji-Soo is still recording, but you could care less about the captured situation. "Be glad it's not the pool I pushed you into." She's stunned enough that she can't find it in her to form words.

Na-Hee opens her mouth, outwardly wanting to apologize, but swallows the excuses when you glare at her in turn. "I was right about you all along. You'll never change."

You kick your shoes off and jump in after Yoon-Seo without hesitation, Jung-Won screaming for you in the background. Thankfully, Yoon-Seo is still conscious, but scarcely, and you manage to guide her toward the rungs of the poolside ladder. Jung-Won yanks Yoon-Seo up and over the edge, throwing a hand down to you.

"Yoon-Seo lost her shoes. I saw them earlier but couldn't reach them, so let me retrieve them too."

Jung-Won looks into the chasmic pool apprehensively, more concerned after what happened, but nods in acknowledgment, going back to propping Yoon-Seo up. "Come back quickly, Seol-Hwa."

Everyone is huddling around Yoon-Seo while you plunge back under, holding your breath comfortably as you grab her sneakers. Right as you're swimming on the path of return, something cold clamps onto your leg, refusing to let go. The vice-like grip tightens, pulling you downward to drown in darkness. No matter how hard you kick, you can't resurface due to the invisible power.

"Seol-Hwa!" Jung-Won calls out to you, frightened. "I'm going to get help, hang on!"

The last thing you see are spindly, mottled, black fingers, color washed out grey in the lighting; something sinister and otherworldly. As it curls tighter around your ankle, so too does your chest constrict, the coldness of the touch seeping into your bones and you find the sense of prior trepidation returning in full force before everything sinks into oblivion.

Lungs burning and head throbbing, you open your eyes groggily, the pristine white walls of the infirmary slowly coming into focus. In the bed next to yours, Yoon-Seo is still asleep.

The digits on your left hand are numb, and you look over to see Jun-Hee gripping it like a lifeline, head resting atop his arm by your knees. Your body protests as you turn on your side, muscles stiff, trying to draw your hand free. Reaching out, you card your fingers tenderly through his hair, the ends still yet to dry. Did he jump in?

After a while, he wakes up with a start, eyes flickering to your face. A shaky sigh of relief escapes him seeing the tiniest of smiles from you, any prior sense of unrest vanishing.

"Are you in pain at all?" He cradles the back of your head, helping you sit up as you dangle your legs over the bed's edge, seated knee to knee with him.

"How long have you been here with me?" You sweep the fallen fringe away to the outlines of his face, fingers lingering against his forehead. "You should've gotten changed at least." Your hand falls back to your lap when you can see his eyes better, unshielded. "You'll grow sick at this rate, Jun-Hee."

"Says the one I'm stressing over."

"I'm fine now," you assure.

"Why didn't you wake me up as soon as you came to? Do you know how terrified I was?" His brows are furrowed in concern still, and you lift your hand again to smooth the crease lines away.

"But you rescued me," you speak quietly.

"I thought you were dying in front of me and that I wouldn't be able to save you in time. I can't lose you; do you know that?" His hand comes up to cup your face delicately, barely daring to touch it wholly, almost afraid you would disappear if he did. "You're someone I can absolutely cannot let go of." You don't realize you're crying until Jun-Hee runs his thumb over your cheek, wiping away the twin trails of tears. You're not usually one to cry, but in this moment, you were overcome with emotions. "Why are you crying?"

"I was worried. Not for me, but for you." His hands are shaking where they're pressed against your face. You put your hand over his, expecting him to pull away at your next words. "I know you like to avoid the water as much as you can after..." you trail off, teardrops still falling. "You willingly jumped in to save me when I know how deep-seated your fear runs."

He smiles sadly at you. "I found out that the care I have for you outweighs any of my existing fears." His hands have stopped shaking and you drag them down, yours coming along with it to hold them together. "I told you earlier to not go someplace where I can't reach you but after this, I'm willing to follow you to the ends of the earth. Even in death, as long as it's with you, I wouldn't mind the thought."

Your heart stutters in your chest at the sincerity of his words, and you know that your feelings for him would never fade. Not in this lifetime. "Jun-Hee..."

"Seol-Hwa? Jun-Hee?" Yoon-Seo's trembling voice has the both of you looking in her direction, but Jun-Hee is yet to release your hand.

"Yoon-Seo..." you reply, eased now that she's awoken. "How are you feeling?"

"I can't recall what happened at all." She holds her head, staring blankly ahead. "But somehow, I find I'd rather not remember." Yoon-Seo moves over to sit on your cot, back-to-back with you. The warmth radiating from her is welcoming. "Seol-Hwa, thanks for always being there. You're a good person through and through."

"Tell that to yourself." You smile and lean your head back against hers. "What are friends for?"

"Saving one another's lives now apparently," Jun-Hee jokes, lightening the atmosphere.

"Then I owe you one," Yoon-Seo continues. "I'll be your Superwoman next time."

"You and Jun-Hee really are like one another. What did you both do together when you were babies to make you fearless like this?" you question, exasperatedly fond. "Readily giving up your life for another person?"

"Only because we know you'd do the same. That kind of sincerity comes once in a lifetime."

The door creaks open just as Yoon-Seo ends her sentence, So-Mi's group filing in self-consciously, Jung-Won leading them in with her arms crossed.

"Apologize," Jun-Hee states emotionlessly. "Right now," he emphasizes, leaving no room for argument. "Pranks are supposed to be harmless, not harmful."

So-Mi grimaces at his harsh tone. "I'm sorry," she's quick to apologize. "Seol-Hwa."

She's not looking directly at you but past to the side of you, gaze straying to your hand in Jun-Hee's where he's absentmindedly rubbing circles with his thumb into your palm, not aware of his own actions. One corner of So-Mi's lip twitches, but aside from that, she doesn't comment on it. If the others have noticed, they don't say anything either.

"I'm not the one this should be reserved for."

You see her bite her tongue, annoyed at having to repeat herself once again, but not yet dropping her fake performance. Plastering on the most pitiful puppy eyes she can conjure up, she shifts her attention to Yoon-Seo, still pale. "I do feel guilty. We truly just wanted to wish you a happy birthday." So-Mi forces the waterworks on, squeezing one teardrop out at a time.

"I don't think I've ever been pushed into a pool as a birthday present before," Jung-Won mutters not so quietly under her breath.

Yoon-Seo elbows her subtly. "It's okay. Don't cry, So-Mi."

You and Jung-Won both whip your heads toward Yoon-Seo, in pure disbelief. Neither of you would've accepted that half-baked, insincere apology.

"Really?" So-Mi's eyes widen on cue, as if she didn't expect Yoon-Seo to be so pardoning. "Will you forgive us?"

"Of course, I accept. I'm alright now, so let's just put it in the past."

Jung-Won doesn't attempt to hide her distaste as she groans aloud. "Yep, totally fine. You just almost went and saw King Sejong is all."

"That's enough," Yoon-Seo whisper-yells.

"Alright, everyone out," Joon-Hee cuts in, feeling the tension in the room. "We'll all talk later."

So-Mi is the first to leave, unmistakably irritated and shamed at the same time. No matter how hard she tries to mask it, you see right through her well-crafted persona. Na-Hee lingers, the last one to exit. Before the door slams shut, she catches your eye, but in finding a look of indifference staring back at her, she turns away without saying a word, the light from the hallway dimming once more.

"That wench spilled crocodile tears."

"Jung-Won ah," Yoon-Seo expresses tiredly. "She said she was sorry."

"I don't care. It wasn't genuine. She acts up because you're the only one that gives way to her."

Yoon-Seo gets up to drag Jung-Won away and out into the hall as the latter begins to raise her voice. Their conversation lowers, but you can hear the last bit of it as they step outside.

"What would you like me to do then?"

"You don't have to do anything," Jung-Won reasons. "I'm only saying I don't tolerate her or her victim mentality, and neither should you."

"Shouldn't we head out too?" You turn to Jun-Hee.

He shakes his head lightly. "Stay and rest a bit more."

"I really am fine." You give his hand a squeeze in affirmation. Despite saying so, you continue to shiver in only your thin white button-up still damp in random patches from being submerged earlier.

Jun-Hee opens the backpack by his feet and tugs out his uniform cardigan, wrapping it around your shoulders. "Here, put this on. You're still cold to the touch."

"Then what about you? Sitting in wet clothes isn't comfortable."

"I have extras I brought with me." Jun-Hee's name tag still pinned to the sweater falls into his line of vision and he can't help smiling to himself that you haven't noticed it's positioned right over your heart. "Plus, it looks better on you anyway."

"It what?" You lean forward, tilting your ear in his direction, not sure if you heard correctly or if they were still water-logged.

"Nothing," Jun-Hee evades, suppressing his smile. It seemed too far-fetched a thing for him to say in either circumstance, so you leave it be, not wanting to wander down the winding paths of your own thoughts. He crouches down and draws the heel of your socked foot to rest on his knee, his free hand untying the laces of your shoes placed to the side.

"I can do it myself," you tell him, flustered from all the attention you were receiving.

Without looking up, Jun-Hee proceeds to put your sneakers on your feet. "I know you can." He goes so far as to knot them tight, tying bows on both sides. "But I want to do it for you." His fingers reach out to trace the shoelaces all the way to the ends of the aglets, remembrance in his eyes.

Embarrassed, you put your feet back on the ground but he looks up at you, eyes twinkling with mischief. "You kept them."

"Of course, I did." You gaze down at your shoes. "You gave them to me."

His own white sneakers come into view, and you wonder why you never noticed his laces, dyed in your favorite color, and yours in his own. "So did I. I didn't think you would."

"Why not?" You toe his shoes with yours. "Just because we made them during summer camp a few years back? A gift is a gift," you reply, nearly pouting.

He laughs at the faux cross tone of your voice, but as his eyes trail upward, the sound chokes and dies off at the end. "Uh...your shirt's now see-through..." He coughs awkwardly and stands up, looking away, a slight tinge of pink dusting his cheeks. "I'll see you out there." Jun-Hee picks up his backpack, hurriedly slinging it over one shoulder before turning to look back at you once more before leaving.

Only a short bit of time has passed, but the moment you step back out with Jun-Hee's cardigan on, you slam straight into Hyun-Ho. He steadies you by the upper arms, eyes widening upon seeing you. "Seol-Hwa!" Before you can react, he throws his arms around you and gives you the most suffocating of hugs, larger form squeezing you tight as his arms encase you, rocking back and forth.

"Hyun-Ho. Can't. Breathe." Your voice comes out punctuated, every pause a ragged intake of air.

He lets go soon after, yanking your head every which way to assess for any injuries.

"Ouch!" you exclaim. Hyun-Ho doesn't know how to control his strength so every pat comes out more like slaps. "Alright!" You try to push his hands away but they're hell bent on checking your well-being. "Ok! That's enough!" You say with finality, laughter bubbling up as your cousin continues to shake you around like a rag-doll. "Yah! If I didn't have any bruises, I sure do now!"

Hyun-Ho steps back, chiding. "Where's the thank you, huh?"

"For giving me new injuries?"

"Is that how you repay me?" Hyun-Ho scoffs. "I was the one who found you in the pool first."

"Y-You were?!" You splutter. "How come no one told me?"

"I said I found you. I wasn't the one who saved you." He shrugs like it was common knowledge.

"Aish." You shove his shoulder but he stands his ground, not budging an inch. "And you're thick-skinned enough to request a word of thanks?"

"Obviously." He flicks you on the forehead, drawing a scowl from you. "I went and got Jun-Hee for you."

"Ok, and...?" You're more baffled than ever.

"Geez, this ungrateful brat." Hyun-Ho tries but fails to hide his smirk. "Who do you think handed you over so you could be carried by Jun-Hee all the way to the infirmary?"

"What?!"

"You looked more comfortable in his arms than on my back, but really, it was no big deal." He shrugs. "All in a day's work for me."

"You—" you point a finger at him, gawking and at a loss for words.

"Also, nice change of outfit by the way." He raps his forefinger on Jun-Hee's nameplate, nails clacking on the piece of plastic. "I know it's your favorite brand."

You gasp as you finally notice, immediately unpinning the white rectangle and slipping it in your skirt pocket. "I'm going to kill him," you mutter under your breath.

"Why not kiss him instead?" Hyun-Ho jests, knowing well enough by now to evade your incessant slaps to his back, running down the hallway as you give chase after.

The two of you come to a stop when the rest of your classmates congregate from the other end of the hallway where Jun-Hee and So-Mi were making an announcement about retiring for the night and trying to contact the teacher again tomorrow morning.

Yoon-Seo taps your shoulder from behind and tilts her phone screen toward you where a timer has popped up.

Before anyone can so much as take a step toward their rooms, the intercom comes to life.

[ ᴠᴏᴛɪɴɢ ᴇɴᴅs ɪɴ ᴏɴᴇ ᴍɪɴᴜᴛᴇ. ]

With everything that has happened since you got here, the mafia game had slipped from your mind.

Suddenly, Yoon-Seo's meter starts counting down from 59 seconds, and with the ding comes a renewed sense of excitement from everyone around you, sleep long forgotten.

While Yool and his friends incessantly chatter away, trying to place blame on one another in good fun, you're the exception. Questioning the origins of the game, you feel a sense of foreboding, an ill-omened current in the air. You were known among your friends to have good instincts, but you hope against all hope that this time, your intuition wouldn't be true.

Jun-Hee walks over beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder that makes you jump out of your skin. "Seol-Hwa...? Did you hear anything I said?"

Hands trembling, you grip onto the rolled-up sleeve cuff of his shirt. "I...don't think we should've voted."

You eye the shaking numbers on Jun-Hee's phone screen, growing shades redder by the minute as it nears zero. He doesn't get a chance to reply as successive announcements come in.

[ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴏᴛɪɴɢ ʜᴀs ᴄᴏɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇᴅ. ʜᴇᴏ ʏᴏᴏʟ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏsᴛ ᴠᴏᴛᴇs ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴇxᴇᴄᴜᴛᴇᴅ. ]

Seconds later, Yool lets out a guttural scream of agony, clutching the side of his head.

"Oi, look at this kid. Gosh, he's just begging for attention again," Eun-Ha utters with clarity, unfazed by Yool's prankster tendencies. While everyone laughs at her statement and his actions, you study his face contorted in pain, veins popping up in his neck.

That kind of intensity isn't for show.

"Jun-Hee...Something's not right," you undertone tremulously, fingers slackening from the grip you had on him. The moment those words leave your lips, Yool falls to the ground, slumped over.

As his friends crowd around, Jun-Hee is rooted to the spot, intertwining your hand with his, holding on tight. You can tell he wants to go help as well, but he keeps throwing glances down at you and ultimately decides against it.

A sickening cracking sound has you sliding your eyes slowly over to see Yool's neck snapping rearward, the rest of his body contorting into a standing position in descending parts. Like a puppet controlled on a string, his limbs bend in odd angles, much more grotesque and inhumane compared to his earlier stint in the gymnasium. As his head straightens again, screams ring out down the length of the hallway.

You press yourself against the wall, finding it hard to breathe as you look directly into Yool's rolled eyes, now completely white, no irises in sight.

The White Butterfly's Murder.

You knew. You knew that butterflies were often seen in the spring as a divination of death, a harbinger of impending demise if it were to encircle someone while in flight. But to have it be white, the color of innocence yet also the color of surrender, you can't help but to wonder if these were all signs you should've heeded. Would we still have ended up here?

Eyes are windows to the soul, they say. Here, you realize, now stands a soulless individual.

Eun-Chan and Yeon-Woo have both fallen to the floor in a heap, staring up at their now unrecognizable friend with nothing but absolute fear in their expressions.

A mindless Yool throws himself side to side, intentionally crashing his head against pictures framed on the wall, glass shattering into a million pieces and raining the floor with shards akin to glitter.

But not all that glitters is gold.

You can't tell if it's the glass reflecting light, or if your tears are distorting your vision, but the scene hazes and blurs, turning into the illusion of a haunted nightmare you so desperately want to wake up from.

The horrific effect doesn't end there as Yool proceeds to crouch down and thump his head repeatedly against the floor, prostrating himself as if he's paying for sins he doesn't even remember; sins he can't even begin to atone for.

Blood is pouring in rivulets down his face, pooling around him like the expanding rings of a target, leaving only the center for his body to stay dead centered.

A broken sound escapes from your lips and Jun-Hee pulls you into his arms, shielding you against him, screening your eyes from having to look any further. Where your ear is pressed against his chest, you can hear the pounding of his heart, but even that sound alone is not enough to drown out that of Yool's head bashing against linoleum.

You squeeze your eyes tight, hard enough until you see spots, but these faint flickers of light are not lucky stars you can wish upon tonight.

If you could, you'd wish to be able to wake up. To start again from the beginning.

But you can't.

Rather, frozen in this cruel reality, you can only escape once you cease to wake up again.

And Yool does just that.

A thousand footsteps running toward a bitter end.

A crash as hope falls apart.

A thud to cease the beating of a heart.

And then...complete silence.

Before you lose consciousness, you feel that same vice-like grip from the pool return in full force, unbreakable chains around your heart.

This time, you're not sure anyone will come to your rescue.

This time, you don't know if you'll make it out alive.

𝟬𝟭 : 𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗔𝗗𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗘 | 𝟬𝟯 : 𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗘 𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗦

© 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐇𝐚𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞. 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨, 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞, 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫-𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐭. 𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐢𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞.

[inkognidamustdie]

Henry doesn't answer the phone.

[urfavmafioso]

please take the time to read this very important post regarding the mafia fandom i care deeply about:

the mafia tumblr is so nostalgic for me since i first entered. i’m emotionally attached. i always said this was the best fandom i’ve ever been in since i never had any bad experiences. but now times have changed and it hurts me a lot since the community isn’t the same like how it used to be. ever since i experienced my first ‘not so good encounters’, my content seems to barely get recognition and it hurts my heart to see that the community i loved with all of my soul had deeply changed. i’ve been avoiding social media because of these feelings. i was very moody and rather serious before this community and first joining it really helped lighten me up. i felt as if i grew up too fast but this game really helped me. i love mafia more than anything in the world, hence why i’m so awfully emotionally attached to it and the community. i never felt a connection to any character as much as vito scaletta. all i’m saying is that it really hurts me how the fandom isn’t like how it used to be for me. i miss how active people were. i miss the fun. i miss the memories. but it’s difficult to accept the fact it won’t be like how it used to. i hope somebody out there understands what i am saying and how i feel for my beloved game and fandom. i enjoyed making people in the fandom happy and laugh, i want to continue doing it but i know it’ll never be the same. i miss the old days. i plan on posting something special on may 31st since it was the day i first got into mafia. of course vito related. well, to the people of the fandom reading my thoughts, i hope somebody understands where i am coming from. if you are in the mafia fandom and still support my companionship, i thank you dearly.

[frombottlealleytotheharbor]

I just realized. Sam crashed the boat. Sam crashed the little getaway speedboat that they had.

because he’s driving here, right?

And then this is the corresponding comic.

Call these comics canon or not but I do not think this man should EVER be trusted with anything that has a steering wheel

[itsmeyadayadayada]

vito after getting home from the war: wow life sure can’t get any worse

a 10 year prison sentence:

[dedinsiidee]

Paulie is Saul Goodman kinn

[v1vid]

our business has rules

[destroytoenjoyy]

babagurl

babygirlies sam cutely

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Vito going from annoyed to loving your stay in his apartement and starting treating you with his wife, his obsessive tendency on the first few was very subtle toward you but it's getting more apparent by holding your hand when going out and beat up punk that disrespected you. One of his most fearful moment is for one day you just go back to your own timeline leaving him all alone

A/N: Ugh your minddddd!! Sorry this took a few days, I got a little busy. Using a prompt from the Yandere prompt list hehehe

44. “Leaving me and going back home is all you think about, isn’t it? Always dreaming about it, always thinking about it?”

Warnings: abuse, manipulation, being held hostage,violence, slight SA and happy sunshine rainbows!!

Requests: Open 24/7

Masterlist

As much flack as Vito had originally given you, he’s so attached to you now.

Vito definitely is the kind of Yandere who pretends like he’s not completely obsessed with you but is actually dying for your attention.

Tsundere I believe it’s called? Yeah. That’s him.

It’s been nice having you around the house. You make him meals, help out with laundry, cleaning, and even patch him up when he comes home hurt. Not to mention very caring and understanding. You check off all the boxes his mama told him to look for in a wife, why would he ever let you go?

Besides, ever since you told him that he’d end up old and alone, he’s been on the hunt to find his perfect wife.

Apparently that perfect someone is you.

Now you were simply doing all of these things as an exchange for him letting you stay while you worked on a plan to get back home. Not because you were trying out to be his housewife.

Vito is from another time period, for him, if you're basically functioning like a married couple then you are one.

All you need now is a ring and his last name.

You didn’t pay attention to his little gestures at first. Him opening the door for you, paying for you and being protective were all chivalrous gestures most men in the 50’s would’ve done anyways. He never made it a big deal or overstepped a boundary so it didn’t really rub you wrong.

Of course Joe would tease you about Vito being completely smitten over you but it never really appeared so. Also who really pays that man any attention???

It wasn’t until Vito started becoming bolder that you started taking him seriously.

Vito would start to get visibly upset if you decided to sit across from him and not directly next to him at restaurants.

He disliked when you interacted with any man other than him. Even to the point where he would start to question your feelings for Joe, slightly accusing you of flirting.

He became a lot more physical, insisting that you’d hold his hand or have at least one of his arms around your waist at all times.

You tried to protest about how this made you feel extremely uncomfortable since this was a very intimate gesture but the man wasn’t having it. It was like arguing with a wall.

“Y/N, I know we’re only friends but I’m doing this for your protection. If other men around think you’re with me, they won’t dare lay a finger on you. Everyone knows I’m with Falcone.”

To your dismay, you dropped it. What he said kind of made sense. Women and children are off limits, especially if they belong to a family. Maybe he knew something you didn’t.

The physical contact continued but only got worse. To the point he’ll just pull you onto his lap, adjust your clothes and move your hair out of the way so he can rest his head on your neck.

“Trust me Y/N, I’m not into you. You’re not even really my type. Like I said, I just want to protect you. I need people to believe it.”

Why are you lying so hard Vito??

This soldier doesn't like it when a man disrespects a woman period!! Like y’all remember this man holding everything in him back so he wouldn’t kill the guy that hit his sister.

Mama’s boy™️

Can you imagine what happened to the man who decided it was a good idea to not only catcall you but to smack your ass???

You tried to tell Vito to forget it and that it wasn’t that big of a deal…

You spent hours trying to get the blood stains out of Vito’s bomber jacket as well as the sounds of his fists slamming that poor punk into the ground out of your head.

As much as he tried so hard to hide his one sided relationship from you, it was so obvious by this point.

Vito felt strongly about you, even if it was platonic. It was getting out of hand and causing you to look for an out.

Maybe speaking to Vito about this would help? Maybe this was all a misunderstanding and maybe this time he’d actually listen to you?

Yeah….no.

He’s a stubborn fuck that refuses to accept reality.

“Okay…since you can’t respect my wishes and this isn’t enjoyable anymore. I’m thinking about leaving and going back home. I mean that was always the plan but-“

What? You’re leaving? No no no. How could you leave your husband?

“No. You’re not going.”

Haha that’s funny…

“Um, Vito, I didn't ask you. I’m telling you. I’ll be leaving soon. Did you really think I was going to stay here forever?”

Yes. He really did. You were meant to be a part of this decade, here with him. What is so great about the future if he’s not going to be there to spend it with you?

He’s not happy, this isn’t right. Something in his brain snapped and he’s not letting you leave.

“Leaving me and going back home is all you think about, isn’t it? Always dreaming about it, always thinking about it?”

“Vito-“

“Do you think it’s funny that I have to spend my life alone…no one to love or take care of me while you go back to your life like it’s nothing??”

“P-please calm down-“

“Oh please fuck off Y/N. There’s someone else isn't there?? Huh? You have some pretty boy waiting at home for you right now? I can make more money for you-”

“Vito! There isn’t anyone else. I’m just not supposed to be here. We weren’t ever supposed to meet. This was all a huge mistake and I’m sorry for interrupting your life. I wish I just never came here. I-I wish we never met.”

Seriously? Did you mean that? Are you going to go back and undo all of this? Can you even do that? You can’t do that, he can’t live without you. You’re meant to be together.

Taking a second to breathe and lower his tone, he spoke calmly.

“Look, I’m sorry. I gained a little crush on you and it’s admittedly gotten a bit weird. You are right and I’ll let it go. If you feel like going back home will make you happy then I will learn to live with it.”

“It’s okay Vito. Let’s just get some rest and then we can discuss this over breakfast. We’ve had a long day.”

Yeah he’ll never learn to live with it. That was his best attempt at setting down the situation. He needed alone time to think and most importantly for you to go to sleep.

It’s wrong…he can almost see the frown on his late mother’s face as he thinks up this sick plan. But he didn’t ever think about you leaving before and now he’s terrified of you doing just that.

He’d only be locking you up for a few days, that’s enough for him to break you…make you change your mind…

He’s been tought exactly how to fuck with someone in the army, how to make his enemy crumble into doing whatever he wants.

Vito could do that with you. It’ll be okay and you’ll learn to forgive him once he gives you a new fur coat or something.

“This is for the best, Y/N. It’s for our future.” He loves you and the ropes tied around your ankles are tied with care. ;)

[vilochkaaa]

ehhh... i was reminded of the good old days when I drew on mafia 2 a couple years ago. it's time to revisit old and beloved fandoms, heh ^__^

goddd i still luv this man

[mothbutcher]

tommy angelo :P

I wish I was a rabbit Rabbits can run I'd be 15 thousand miles away Before you shoot your gun!